New Age Legends: The New Vegas Courier
by M.A. Cunningham
Summary: A woman wakes up with no memory of herself. Shot, left for dead and somehow surviving changes her life as she is forced to cross the harsh Mojave wasteland and finds lies, murder, deceit, love, opportunity and recollection of the life she once lived. New Vegas lies waiting, waiting for her to uncover herself and put an end to a struggle for power over the greatest Pre-War asset.
1. The Awakening

**_A/N: This is now officially a project I'll be taking on. along with my other Fallout story, since Chapter 2 is in existence. Nice.  
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**_-M.A. Cunningham_**

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You know, of all ways to wake up, I wish I didn't wake up as I did today. I wake up, and get a big headache as I try to move my head to the side. Half my head is wrapped in bandages! What the fuck! I just lay there, you know. It hurts to move my head, and so I let myself adjust and slowly and carefully move my body and sit up on the bed I'm on. Wait, why am I on a bed? I look around the room and I see tables, glassware, shelves full with boxes and crates.

Everything looks very sciency… am I at a drug lab? No, no, no. I've never been too caught up in drugs… have I? A sudden breeze comes through the window. I get major chills so I wrap my arms around my body, and I … feel… boobs. I look down at my body and holy fuck I'm naked! Why the hell am I naked?

I walk around the room, trying to find some apron or something because drug makers have aprons, right? I don't know. God… what if I was raped…. I mean, I don't feel sore. But I don't know how long I was out. I don't even know where I'm at! There's that open doorway right there… No! The perv that lives here is probably sleeping on the couch or something… but maybe I can find food, or clothes at least.

I walk around the room and take a scalpel from a table. Cautiously I walk out of the room I'm in and into the next room. No one in the living room. No one in the bed room. Okay, food. Kitchen. As I make my way to the next room, I here dishes shatter and press myself against the wall, scalpel at the ready.

Slowly, I slide against the wall to the doorway and I peek into the kitchen. There's an old, bald man there! Damn it! I _was _raped! Okay, okay, no need to panic. Just walk silently over and slice his neck. Nice and easy. That's what I do. The old man is too busy picking up broken glassware with his back turned toward me so it'll be easy!

I ready the scalpel and I turn into the doorway and make my silent march to murder. Damn it how Lady Luck hates me because I step on a shard of broken dish and yell, dropping my scalpel as I clutch my leg to remove the piece of broken glass. The old man turns around and I yell even louder in fear.

"Oh! I'm so sorry miss! I didn't mean to!" He shields his eyes away from me, but I know he enjoyed seeing me!

"Shut up! Where am I, why the fuck am I naked and who the fuck are you!" I pick up the scalpel again, pointing it at the man.

"Put the scalpel down, miss." He tried creeping up closer to me but I slashed the blade at him, sending him jumping backwards as he raised his hands. "Fine, don't put it down then. My name is Mitchel. I'm the doctor that took the shards of bullets from your noggin. You could say I saved your life. You're in my home slash workplace." I keep the knife pointed at him but use my other arm to cover my bare chest. "Now, the reason you're in your birthday suit is because your clothes were dirty and stained with blood. Plus, I didn't want you suffocating by your own clothes! Now put the knife down, miss."

"Do you like raping women in your home, Doc? Is that your underground operation? Rape women and make drugs in your lab while being a doctor, huh? Huh!"

"Now, now," he cried, "I don't rape women or make drugs. Well, I technically make drugs but I make my own meds to help people live. You know, Med-X, Stimpaks, Super Stimpaks, those sorts of things. No need to be accusing me. The only thing of yours I touched was your noggin and only to remove the bullet shards that were left in it. That's the God honest truth!" He raised his left hand while covering his heart with his right.

"Give me my clothes! Now!" He ran past me into another room. No sooner than he left, he came back with my clothes.

"This was all the clothes that was on you ma'am." He handed me a pile of clothes which I took in my free hand. "Here, you can change in here," he opened the door to a bathroom. "I'm sorry for giving you the frights, madam." I lowered the scalpel as I got further into the bathroom before slamming the door shut.

So maybe he didn't rape me. It still doesn't mean I take kindly to the fact he's seen me naked. "I'm sorry to bother ma'am," he called through the door, "but I'm pretty sure you can take off your bandages now."

"Um, thanks for the notice…" God, I nearly killed an innocent doctor. I looked at all the clothes and sure enough, they were clean. Good.

Underwear first, then my grey canvas pants, my black t-shirt next and I slip on my black socks. God, it feels warm and nice to wear clothes again. Next came on my almost knee-high boots and then my gloves. Shit. One is much longer than the other is. The shorter one now only goes to my wrist instead of mid-forearm. Damn it. Oh well. Now… the piece of resistance… my leather duster… that won't go on now. Nope. I'll probably be sweating up a flood inside this house or something.

I exit the bathroom, duster folded over my arm and scalpel still in hand. "Doc?"

"In the living room." I go there and see he's sitting on a chair facing the couch with papers in his hands. "Have a seat please," he said as he motioned to the couch in front of him.

"Hey, Doc, I'm sorry about yelling at you and the accusations and stuff." I walked around and sat on the couch. "I don't know where I am, being naked didn't help and sorry about nearly cutting your throat. Here," I handed the scalpel to him.

He held up a hand to me and told me, "No, no. It's perfectly understandable. Being in a strange place with no memory of how you got there, why or even when can be stressful. Yes, being naked makes it worse. Believe it or not, it actually happened to me once before."

"Really?" I let out a small chuckle.

"Yes, but when I woke up, I was under two women who were s-"

"Okay! Don't need to no more, just need to know if those papers involve me."

He gave them to me and said, "Yup. I just need you to fill out this form. It's just to get a sense of who you are, records that you were properly taken care of, to see if you need any special medication and what not. I won't show it to the world. Promise. We have Doctor-Patient confidentiality."

I looked at the form long and hard. I really did. It kinda hurt my head thinking for the answers. "Doc… I don't know the answers to any of these. I don't know anything about myself; I don't even know my name."

He looked at me and stroked his mustache. "Then we should give you a nice name, shouldn't we? What about 'Alice'? I think it sounds nice."

"It's pretty good." Better than Beatrix, the name that first came to mine.

"I'm sure you can come up with a last name if you wish, but if you follow me, we'll take a look at your vitals." My vitals? Is he going to cut me open? I followed him to the room I woke up in a he showed me a machine I didn't notice before.

"What's that?"

"That there, is my ol' Vit-o-matic Vigor Tester. It tells me what kind of person you are physically and intellectually. Just go on up there, give the handle a firm squeeze and I'll write down the results. Simple as that."

I gave the handle a good squeeze and a number four lit up next to a letter S. He told me to press the button to the right of the handle, and when I did, the lights turned off. Another five came up but with a letter P. A four with an E. A nine with a C. That both surprised me and scared me. What are these letters and numbers? A nine with an I, a five with an A and finally, a ten with L.

After the Doc wrote down the final results, he looked to me and said, "With luck like yours I'm surprised them bullets didn't turn right around and climb back into the gun."

"Let me guess, I have Lady Luck on my side."

"Correct." Didn't seem that way this morning.

"What about the rest of the letters and numbers? What do those mean?"

"Well, you're special. I'll let you find out about yourself. Now, I'd like to have a look at your psyche. Just to make sure I'm not harboring a deranged serial killer. Now, if you'd take a seat on the couch back at the living room, we can get started, ma'am."

"Alright. You can call me Alice now, you know. You came up with the name people should call me, after all."

"Yes I do, madam." Ass.

"Okay, let's get this over with." I sat down on the couch, facing the good doctor who took out some forms from the small table against the wall of the living room.

"All right, then. I'm going to say a word and you say the first thing that comes to mind. Dog"

"Dinner." I'd eat a fucking dog?

"House."

"Renovate."

"Night."

"Campfire." Bandit, I answered swiss cheese. Torch for Light. The one that took the cake: Human shield for Mother.

He stopped writing on the form, leaned over to me and whispered, "Scary what these tell us about ourselves, isn't it ma'am?"

"Very scary…"

Now that that's done, I'm going to say a few statements and you respond by what you feel is in your natural instincts."

"Okay…?"

"Conflict isn't my nature."

"I strongly disagree, I think."

"I ain't given on relying to relying on others for support"

"Strongly agree," I claimed, raising my chin pompously. He's right. It's scary what these tell me about myself. Apparently, I'm a pompous bitch.

"I'm always fixing for the center of attention."

"STRONGLY disagree with that one, Doc."

"I'm slow to embrace new ideas."

"I disagree with that whole heartedly." I'd try the next new thing I come across. If it doesn't work, toss it. Sell it. Whatever, I'd just not want it if it doesn't work.

"I charge in to deal with my problems head on."

"Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope. Disagree entirely." He wrote things on his little form and switched to a new one.

"Almost done. Now if you don't mind, take a look at these and tell me what you see." He handed me a paper with what looked like was an accident with a pen.

"Well, this one looks like an oozing wound. Maybe a girl on her moody time. A puzzled look came across him. He handed me another. "Well, this one looks like two kittens holding up an antenna." The doctor gave me another puzzling look.

"What about this one?"

"Oh! This is an easy one," I yelled, nearly hopping off the couch seat. "This one is showing two samurai high-fiving each other!" Yet, another puzzled look. No? It certainly looked like it.

"Well," he said, "either you were always this strange or that bullet may have done some damage after all." I blushed, whether embarrassed or obscenely flattered. I looked to the side and saw a bookshelf full of books. A quick picture of a wall of books in front of me entered my memory for a second.

"You read, Doc?"

"In my spare time. Oh, let me see…" He went to the shelf and scrolled past a number of books until he came to one with a blank spine, a pale green book with a black spine, a blank cover. "I want you to have this, to keep with you in your journeys. See, a journal for a journey? Get it?" HE started making a small chuckle. I joined, not wanting to make it awkward.

He gave me a pencil to write in it with, a small bag for any supplies I might pick up. "Thank, Doc. Anything else for me?" I was joking. No sooner, though, he came back with a bag full of things.

"This is a Pip-Boy 3000A I got when I served my childhood in Vault 13. I want you to have it. I'm stuck here for the remainder of my days, so it's no use to me anymore. This can help you thrive out there in the wasteland." Oh yeah, the Earth was burnt by nuclear fire. I forgot. Now, every country was some desolate wasteland rife with crazy people, nightmarish monsters, and a whole-lot of radiation. Damn war. Two hours of nuclear bombing and the world goes to shit. Oh, well.

"Thanks-"

"Here is a tin full of stimpaks. There are eight of those in here, here's the gun I found with you, the necessary ammo for it, and the straight razor I found on you. You had this small box with six bobby pins and eighteen caps in a little pouch, too." As he gave me those, I suddenly remembered what these were for.

Caps were our money, and bobby pins were used to keep my hair up when needed and to break into places. It all came back… Wait, gun, ammo, shit, but no holster? "Doc, if I carried a gun, where's my holster?"

"Oh! That's right! Wait, here miss!" He ran to another room and I heard the sounds of boxes opening and things being rummaged through, before he came back with a holster for my trusty revolver. "Sorry, about that, ma'am."

"No worries," I said, strapping the holster around my waist. I loaded my lucky .357 and slid it in its holster. "Doc, if I may ask, why do all this for me? I'm just some stranger you met that was dying. Why give me all these things like a Pip-Boy and medical things for free?"

He walked around and settled on a chair. "You remind me of my late wife Alice. Your hair is the same shade of brown as hers and your eyes are blue like hers. She died here in Goodsprings as we were trying to make it to California. It was her dream to get to the coasts of California…So when you were dragged in here, I didn't want the same to happen to you." I look like his dead wife… him raping me doesn't sound too much of an accusation after all…

"Aw, Doc, I'm so sorry. How did she die?"

"She lived in the vault her whole life, so she had a weak immune system. She died here so I stayed to be close to her. I gave you all these things to make sure you don't befall the same fate."

"I won't."

"Good, just to make sure, go talk to Sunny Smiles at the saloon. She can help you get your bearings."

"Alright, I'll be sure to do that." Sunny Smiles…Sunny… side-up? Mm. I could go for some food. "Got any food doc?"

"Oh, yes. Where are my manners? Please, take what you need from the fridge." I walk to the kitchen again, open the fridge and take out a Brahmin Steak and eat it with a Nuka-Cola to flush it all down. That hit the spot.

I saw the blood stain on the floor, my blood. "Sorry about the blood, Doc. Truly."

"No worries, miss. I'll clean it in a jiff. It ain't too much trouble." God, he was so nice.

"Well, thanks for everything, Doc. Take care."

I go down the hall to leave the house when he calls out to me. "If you see Victor, tell him thanks for digging you out of that grave."

Fuck, I was buried alive. "…Okay… I will. Bye, Doc." I open the door, the sun warms my skin, the sun fucks my eyes and wind blows my shoulder-length hair. Looks like it's a time for my good duster. I put it on, and roll up the sleeves until it feels right above my elbow. Perfect how this one is hooded.

A house on a hill. Nice. Ahh, the breeze feels nice. I lift my arms, embracing the moving air, until I'm blocked by… a robot? "Who are you? _What _are you?"

"My name's Victor," it says in a cowboy drawl. "I noticed you gone out of Doc Mitchell's house right now, so I wanted to great ya."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. So... you're Victor? The one who dug me out of the grave?" Shit was freaky. It was a giant box on one wheel, with a TV showing a picture of a cowboy. How fitting.

"That's mighty right, ma'am. I saw three men crowded around someone, I figure that was you, so I stayed low. I heard a shot and saw the three o' them run for the hills. Dug you right out when the cost was clear."

"Thanks very much, Victor. Do you know what they looked like? I don't remember anything about myself or them. If you do, it would help a lot."

"Well, two of them were Great Khans and the one that kinda ran the whole thing looked fresh from the Strip by his checkered suit." Images flashed in my head, checkered suit man, Khans, being tied up and shot in the face. A poker chip.

"Thanks, Victor."

"Any time partner. I think they went back to New Vegas. I myself am headed there right about now, so I reckon' I'll see you there soon."

"Maybe." New Vegas… Sin City.

"Well, you take care, miss. Hopefully, we cross paths again sometime soon." With that said and done, it wheeled off on its one wheel, leaning left and right. I put my hands in my pants pockets, breathing in the fresh air, but i feel something in my pocket. I take it out and it seams to be a crumpled piece of paper. 'Deliver the package to the New Vegas strip, by way of Freeside. There, you shall receive a payment by a contact and you must then give payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express in Primm.'

Hmm. A trip to Sin City, city of lights, booze, gamble, sex drugs, well the list goes on. I'd really like to meet Smiles though... she sounds nice.

Alright now, let's see what's up with this Sunny Smiles. Saloon… saloon… oh, there it is. Hopefully, Sunny has some info on Mr. Checkered suit. If not, well we can always go to Sin City. This is my first entry in my Journey Journal. When I write in this again, i should have done something awesome. If not, I'll still write in this but probably not about shooting things. Maybe about this heat. Who knows.

-Alice Grey


	2. Goodsprings Gun Fight

_**Here you go. More Alice Grey for you. Enjoy.**_

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So, uh, I found the saloon. It was across the road, next to the general store. An old man sat outside it listening to the radio, staring into deep into the wasteland. I opened the door as was greeted by a girl and her dog, the latter which was barking and growling at me.

"Cheyenne, stay," the girl said. "I guess you're the new gal in town. My name's Sunny Smiles." Hmm… she seemed… calm. Then again, she wasn't shot in the fucking face.

"Yeah. Doc Mitchell told me to come visit you." Beautiful first impression, right?

"Well, if you want to learn how to survive out on the road, especially nowadays, you'd best follow me out back." So I followed her past the empty bar, and through a door to the alley between the saloon and general store. I kept following her until we were a yard or two behind the saloon, where she gave me a rifle.

"Oh," I laughed, "No need. I have this," I told her, taking out my revolver.

"Well," she started, "unless that there revolver of yours can take down Powder Gangers from yards away, reload quick and shoot quicker, I suggest taking one of these. Besides, everyone needs a backup."

Powder Gangers? "Oh yeah, what's _your_ back up, eh?" She looked at me and pointed to her dog.

"She'll rip your throat out before you have the chance to yell." I frowned and took the damned rifle. If what Doc Mitchell's tests were true, then I'd make that dog into a lovely steak and broth before it had a chance to yelp.

"Okay, see those bottles over there on top of that fence? Try shooting at them with the rifle." So I brought the rifle up, aimed down the sights, and shot. Miss! I shot another round and another miss. Miss after miss after miss.

"Fucking hell," I muttered, giving up aiming and randomly shooting at the bottles until I heard the clip of the empty rifle.

"Just slow down, take a deep breath, maybe take a knee and try again," Sunny said. "Here's a few more clips for that damn fine shootin'." I calmed down, took a couple of deep breathes and took a knee. I lined my barrel to the bottles and pulled the trigger.

The bottle exploded into shards of glass as my bullet went through it, the remaining bottles following after. A smile spread across my face at the revelation that I, Alice Grey, can single handedly take down an army of glass bottles, should the need arise.

"There ya go! I do hope you don't plan on shooting at bottles forever. Come on, I need to clear out the watering holes nearby."

"Sure, it'll be fun," I replied. It should be fun. I can see if I can conquer another race of non-sentient beings from this wasteland.

She started a small jog out of town, following a trail that lead to the watering holes. We stopped, though, when she heard the tiny shriek of a creature.

"Here that? Sounds like geckos." She took out her rifle. "I'll let you take first crack at 'em."

I crouched down, rifle in hand and circled the giant stone we hid behind. I didn't see anything as I spied the watering hole. In fact, I just heard my own breath. I didn't want to go over to the watering hole, lest I become swarmed. Behind me, I heard Cheyenne starting to softly growl. There was nothing there! Why was it growling? I fucking heard the chirps and clicks they made back and forth to each other but the damned things weren't there!

Dirt and pebbles fell from above the giant rock form I was squatting by, so naturally, I looked up. There, crouched over the edge looking down on me, were these giant geckos. There nasty yellow eyes staring at me, the occasional tongue lick to the eye to keep it from drying disgusted me. Slowly, I raised my rifle to the middle of the three, but it leaped at me, jaws open, as I fired the shot.

It clamped on the side of the rifle's barrel, so I swung the damn thing into the rock as Sunny and Cheyenne attacked the other two geckos. The gecko fell of my rifle as I slammed it into the rock next to me and I kicked its head as it tried getting up, sending it a foot away. It got up and lunged at me with its mouth open but I shot my rifle at it, a knee taken of course, and smirked as it feel in front of me with a hole in the back of its head.

"Woo! That was some mighty fine shootin'," Sunny yelled. "What I tell ya? Deep breathes, knee taken and you can hit just about anything." She looked at Cheyenne, who started feasting on the necks of the fallen geckos. A dog with a fetish for meaty necks. I'd say _that_ is the abomination of the wasteland.

"What now?" I didn't want the fun to end. Shooting geckos in a life or get-mauled-the-fuck-out scenario was exhilarating!

"Well, you could join me in clearing out the other two watering holes. There'd be caps in it if you'd want some." Ah, yes. Caps. Tiny pieces of tin originally created to stop our sodas to from spilling worth nothing, now used as money. Oh, the irony.

"Wouldn't hurt," I replied. "Well, unless I get bit in the face, then I guess it'd hurt."

Sunny chuckled. "I like you. When we get back, I'm buying you a drink." Caps, seeing a dog eat geckos I kill and now drinks? Hell yeah.

I followed Sunny as she lead me to another gecko-infested watering hole, keep in mind that they weren't actually "holes" but little reservoirs, I guess. We shot at the other geckos when I heard a scream nearby.

"No! Get away" the voice yelled. I ran toward the sound of the scream's origin and saw a young blonde girl being chased by three geckos down below near another watering hole, her only means of defense was a cleaver that she couldn't even use out of fear.

I shot the remaining rounds out of my rifle at the geckos, barely missing them by inches. I threw the rifle down and took out my revolver. I shot three shots at them, hitting two of them badly enough that they fell. The last one continued its assault, and as it leaped at her with its open mouth of death, I took a deep breath, aimed and shot the bullet that made the gecko fly off-course and hit the ground dead.

I jumped down from the small edge I was on, and was hugged by her. "Oh my goodness gracious thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you," she exclaimed, tightening her hold on me with each word. "If it wasn't for you," she said, finally letting go of me, "I would've died. Here, I came down here for water but I think you deserve it." She gave me two bottles of water, fresh and pure from the watering hole.

Sunny finally decided to show up, Cheyenne naturally carrying a dead gecko in her jaws followed en suite. "Nice going. A real shame if she died. I always tell people 'Don't come out here by yourselves,' but do they listen? No!" She sighed. "As for you missy," she said, looking at the blonde girl, "you better be grateful we were here." She looked at me again and said, "Would you care to escort her? While you're in town, pick broc flower by the cemetery and some xander root by the old school house, then come back to this campfire over here. One last thing I need to show you."

I nodded, wrapping my arm around the young blonde-haired woman's arm and marching back to Goodsprings. As soon as we got there, I told her, "Run! Be free!" Lame, I know but it was the least awkward way to say goodbye. I started to the old schoolhouse and got a single xander root, it looked like an onion. From there, I walked up the hill near Goodsprings, killed a brown radscorpion that was scary as fuck, and shot at a couple Bloatflies who shot their shit at me. I noticed the open grave and a massive headache suddenly came to me, knocking me to the floor. I remembered this place.

"_You got what you were after. Now pay up," a man with a beard and rough clothes said._

I was remembering…

"_You're cryin' in the rain, pally," a man said, his voice more accented and civilized than the other man's gruff and brutish voice. Much more elegantly dressed too, sporting a checkered suit. _

_I remember looking down, seeing my wrists tied together with rope. "She's awake," another man told him._

"_It's time to cash out," the man in the checkered suit said._

"_Would you get it over with, al—" The checkered suit man raised a hand, cutting off the Khan._

"_Maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain't a fig, dig?" He turned to me and said, "Looks like you made your last delivery kid," he said, pulling out a poker chip from his coat and flashing it in the light of the lantern they had. He put it away in his coat and took out a shiny, nickel-plated pistol. "Sorry you got twisted up in all this," he pulled the slide of the gun back, making sure a bullet was in the barrel. "From where you're kneeling, this must feel like an 18-karat run of bad luck!" He pointed the gun straight at my face…_

Tears started coming out of my eyes, both from the pain of the headache, and from the memory.

"_Truth is, the game was rigged from the start." With that... he pulled the trigger and everything went dark._

I lay there, in the dirt near where it happened, until the headache went away and the tears stopped falling. Somehow, someway, I was going to find him and kill him. I walked over to the grave, and saw some used cigarette butts. I decided to pick them up, so when I find him and if he doesn't recognize me, I'd throw him his cigarette then shoot him in the damned face! After all, he fucked up his chance to kill me, but I know I'll make sure he's fucking dead!

I took deep breathes. 'There, there,' I told myself, 'revenge shall come soon.' I picked the broc flower nearby and noticed something shiny. I walked over to a grave and near the wooden headstone was a snow globe with a little man inside and Goodsprings in the background. I pocketed that too, a memento, you could say.

I walked back to the campfire Sunny instructed me of and she was there with a nice fire in front of her. "Finally," she called. "I was wondering if you got shot again," she said laughing. I looked at her dully, the memory being a bitch to handle. "Okay not funny." Yeah, let's see if you like being shot in the head, bitch.

Sunny showed me that if I burnt the broc flower and xander root, then grinded them to… well, powder, I'd have healing powder. She wrapped it in a small little pouch and gave it to me. "Just sprinkle it over any cuts or bullet holes, and the powder should close that wound up in an hour or two. It'll burn at first, but it'll feel relaxing after. Also, it will kinda make your vision a bit blurry but it should wear off after the wound closes."

"Thanks Sunny." Burning sensation, and blurry vision… or blood loss… Hmm, which to choose, which to choose.

"Well that's all for now. I'm gonna head back. If I miss anything good on the jukebox, Cheyenne would be cross with me." Ooh, she'd be _cross_ with you.

"Sunny, earlier you mentioned Powder gangers. Who are they?"

"They're these nasty ex-convicts who are still convicts but because the NCR decided to give said convicts dynamite and gun powder for their manual labor sentences, they took control of the prison and roam free causing mayhem and little destruction in their futile effort to intimidate us." Classy.

"They're trying to intimidate you guys into what?"

"Well, if you walk with me back to town, I'll explain it all." Well it is getting dark…

"Lead the way," I told her.

"So a couple days ago, this guy named Ringo breaks into the gas station in town to hide in. When we ask him what's going on, he tells us some Powder Gangers are after him and if he can stay there until the coast is all clear. Obviously, them idiot Powder Gangers, Joe Cobb and his like, come and asks the whole town questions to which we all deny, like knowing who this Ringo guy is or if we see him. Since then, they kept pestering us, threatening to burn the town down."

"You all should do something." We made it to the saloon before I knew it.

"Well go talk to Ringo. He's still up in the gas station. If he's up for it, so am I," she replied, pointing a finger at an old gas station behind Doc Mitchell's.

After taking my sweet time getting up that hill, then stopping to get a Sunset Sarsaparilla from the vending machine next to the door, I finally… got another. These were great! 200 years did _nothing _to these things. Great tasting, addicting and sure as hell free. Well these two were.

I went through the door and was greeted by a gun in the face. Why can't people be more civilized around here? God, a goodbye with a bullet and a hello with a gun, what the fuck?

"Hold it right there," the man said. "Who are you and what do you want?" I assumed this was Ringo due to the paranoid time-bomb with a gun.

I raised my hands in the air to show I meant no harm, yet. "Ringo, I presume? Yeah, well see I already got shot in the face so unless you want to see the bottom of my boot in your face, you better hope you aim better than the last guy."

He lowered his pistol, because my charms told him to, of course. "Sorry about the gun. I'm a bit paranoid those Powder Gangers will come through that door." Obviously.

"No, I actually came to ask if you'd like to kill those idiots before they kill you. I talked to Miss Sunny Smiles about it and she's willing to help."

He started thinking. "We'd need the whole town's support. Go talk to Trudy in the saloon. She's like the Godmother, if you will. Everyone looks up to her. Get her to tag along, and we can pull this off."

So I went back down to the saloon and met with Trudy, who worked behind the bar.

"Ah," she said, "I assume you're the one that's going to fix this damned radio? Honestly, those damned Khans need to learn some manners."

"Wait, wait, wait. Khans? You know they were here?" Damn, I get information like it was coming from a book.

"Yes. Two khans were here with some fancy guy in a suit and knocked my radio over then left when Sunny pulled her gun and Cheyenne on them. Some nerve." She looked at me more closely and gave a sigh. "You aren't here for the radio, are you?"

"Well, I could look into fixing it for you if you want but I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to—Nevermind! What do you know about the man in the checkered suit?"

"He came in here a couple days ago with them Great Khans, said something about a chip, knocked my radio over when I wouldn't serve them then left talking about Primm. Maybe he went that way." Primm… Primm.

"Could you mark it on my map?" I extended my arm with my Pip-Boy and she gave a button a little click and there was a box with 'Primm' under it. "Thank you, now I need your help." I walked around the counter and opened up the radio from the back.

"With what, exactly?" A small readjustment with some wires and the radio brought sweet music out from its core. "Ooh, that sounds fine. Thank you kindly. Here, some caps for the trouble." She handed me a small pouch she said had fifty caps.

"Really? Fifty caps only? I saved you from finding another one. These things aren't exactly found in a box outside your doorstep, you know?" She was practically ripping me off.

"Eh… you're right. Here's another twenty-five. Now that you helped me, what can I do to help _you?_"

"Sunny, Ringo and I are planning to attack the Powder gangers next time they come. I thought you could get the town organized and join us." If she says no…

"I don't feel like getting shot over some stranger." Damn it.

"Do something now and prevent an attack later. Neglect it and later, they come with enough dynamite to make a nuke feel like worthless." Who knows if they would. They sound crazy enough to do it, though.

"Fine, you're right. I'll assemble the town. Talk to Doc Mitchell for some extra aid in case we need any, Chet next door could give us some armor if you convince him and maybe with a bit of persuasion, Easy Pete outside can dig up his stash of dynamite. Talk to them." Yes!

I went outside to confront the old man. "Can you lend the town dynamite to fend off the Powder Gangers?"

He looked at me with a blank expression and said, "I believe you're out of your goddamned mind. That'll only cause people to hurt themselves and I don't want going in my conscience that I gave dynamite to people who don't know the first thing about using it." So… that's a no? "I'll help, sure, but no dynamite is going to be used near this town."

"But-but-but," I stammered, "the Powder Gangers will have dynamite! They won't care about this town or your little rules! They blow us all to shit! Just give at least half the town two sticks each. That's all I'm asking."

He gave me a firm no and I walked away in shame. Hopefully Doc Mitchell won't be so moody.

"Welcome back," he said. "I didn't expect you back so soon. What'd you need, miss?"

"Oh nothing much. Just Stimpaks for the town since the Powder Gangers will be here to fuck us all," I said rapidly, looking at the floor and my feet.

"Terrific. Why does everything have to be resolved with violence…" He left the living room and came back with a big First Aid kit. "Here's two stimpaks. I'll give the rest of the town some."

"Thanks again, Doc."

"Don't mention it, miss. Let's hope nothing serious happens."

Finally. Chet. He was in the General Goods store next to the saloon, counting things on the walls of his store.

"Welcome," he said. "Would you like to see what I have on sale or will you be browsing?" He seemed serious, his thin beard said it all.

"Actually, I came to ask if you could spare some armor or weapons to the town. The Powder gangers are going to be coming and we're going to attack them. We need the town with decent armor."

Chet looked at me and burst out laughing, holding his stomach and throwing his head back with utter laughter. Jerk. He wiped a tear from his eye. "I'd need at least 1,000 caps to supply the town. Business is tough, you know. The economy is in the toilet and all."

"How about this," I told him. "You give the town armor and the Powder Gangers won't kill us, nor you, nor ransack your store after pissing on your corpse. Even better, the entire town will talk about how Chet's 'wonderful grade' armor saved their lives, their beloved town, and business sky rockets."

"Deal," he replied. 'I'm locking the door shut right before the fight so make sure everyone comes to get their suit before, or else they're as good as dead." I nodded and left to go tell Ringo the news.

"You got them all?" I hoped I could've said yes.

"No, Pete wouldn't cough up the explosives."

Sunny suddenly burst through the door. "Look alive lady and gent! Joe Cobb is on the way, fifteen others following. They should reach the town in minutes. Ready, y'all?"

Ringo and I gave a nod. "Oh," she said, "Pete came through. Here's your guys' sticks o' dynamite." She handed me and Ringo two sticks each. Yes, Pete came through.

We ran down the hill and took our positions. Everyone went hiding. Some in the saloon, some on top of it, other behind crates, like me. We waited until they were in sight and we threw our rain of dynamite at them. Some of them reacted quickly and ran out of the way, others were lucky enough. Some blew to pieces, and some lost their legs and arms, shouting from pain. Either way, the gun fight had started.

I used a crate next to me for some stability and managed to pick of some guys off. I shot at one guy wielding a cleaver, about to bring it down on a woman when I shot him in the chest. A man casually walked closer to town, shooting a single shot shotgun. When he was near enough to town, I shot him in the legs, bringing him down to the floor and I watched as Cheyenne ran up to him and literally rip the guy's neck off. Jesus, it was intense.

A Powder Ganger with a big cowboy hat walked between a line of other members with a stick of dynamite in his hands, ready to light the fuse. I shot at him, hoping to take him down before he got the chance to throw the stick and my bullet exploded the stick in his hands, blowing him and other Powder Gangers near him into pieces.

Joe Cobb made an appearance, the only one with a bulletproof vest on. He dived into a body of a former Powder Ganger and started shooting at the town with a .357 magnum revolver. No one was able to shoot him, his meat shield taking most of the blows. He was luckier, though. He managed to shoot a settler in the shoulder and another in the arm. Trudy and other settlers dragged the two wounded out of the firefight to be treated. The other four Powder gangers standing took that genius idea and used the meat shields for cover.

Cheyenne was smart enough to go around the back of the Gangers and managed to take one out, before being sent off running after being shot by another Ganger, who Sunny took out with her rifle soon after. I spotted on of the last three reloading his shotgun and shot at him, eventually hitting my target in the head. The next Ganger lit a stick of dynamite, and so I shot at him, trying to shoot the stick like last time but I only ended up shooting his arm, forcing him to drop it.

Joe Cobb immediately got up to run after seeing the stick fall, still lit, but the dynamite exploded, sending him flying and turning his comrade into pulp. Everyone halted there firing as they noticed the gangers were down. I went to wear the last stick blew up and sure enough, that idiot with the dynamite was no more.

I walked to where I saw Cobb fly and saw him dragging himself with one arm and one leg left. He flipped himself on his back to face me, and took out a switchblade, attempting to kill me as his final act. Cute. I quickly took that silly thing away from him before he hurt himself and savagely stabbed it into his eye before stomping on the knife with my boot for good measure.

The town was safe. All the Powder Gangers fell and the town's two injuries were minor. As I look at the midnight moon shine down on the settlers of Goodsprings pick up the remains and corpses, I smile, knowing that I did something productive. Tomorrow, I'll go on my search for the man in the checkered suit and exact my revenge. If I don't find him tomorrow, I'll keep going until my leads show me his face and the horror he expresses as he beholds my bullet lodging itself in his head.

-Alice Grey, Savior of Goodsprings, Chewer of bubblegum and taker of names when she's all out of bubblegum.

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_**What did you guys think? I personally didn't want her to be a great shot, nailing every bottle as if she wasn't shot in the head. I've seen many fics do that.**_

_**Anyways, feel free to leave a review if you'd like. Make any suggestions, constructive criticism is always wanted and of course, tell me if my spelling is off. Stay tuned for part 3!**_

_**15-8-13: Sorry for not updating! Truly sorry! School started, classes are hectic and weekends are my writers' havens now. I'll update Sunday at the latest.**_

_**- M.A. Cunningham**_


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